The ancient silence and the light of green Sleeping soundly by the hanging tree Falling leaves rushing by your face All of the memories that you think you have of this place Are sleeping by the hanging tree And so does the child in me And so does the child in me This is not a place for living things This is your tombstone, this is it Let the wind blow gently cross the floor Won't bother you in your sleep As you lay peaceful in your crypt of wood And why is it so good? And why is it so good When roots and bones become the same Wear your leaf crown and rise again When the wind blows gently cross your face You are ancient, you are time and space And they are the same to you They are the same to you It's all the same to you